


Iggy Stardust

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Sex, but definitely rock n roll, glam rock au, no drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: The newest glam rock sensation in Insomnia is a jaw-dropping, heart-thumping, supersonic sex machine with a voice that could send a good man to his knees.He also happens to be the advisor to the future king of Lucis.





	Iggy Stardust

Ignis was on his third coffee of the morning when Prompto arrived, bursting through the office door with a rush of air and the scent of cheap soap and freshly-cut grass. For a moment, as his blond hair caught the light of the hall outside, he brought to Ignis' mind the image of a young god brought down to earth. His effortless smile, the tilt to his chin, the way he lifted his hand to catch the doorframe—He could have stepped out of any one of the classics in the public gallery. 

"I know you're busy," he said. He was wearing his jogging sweats and a grey tank top that dipped low down his chest. "But I was heading over for training with Cor, and I thought you were probably gonna eat lunch at your desk again."

He dropped a bag on an empty spot on Ignis' desk. It had the symbol of one of Ignis' favorite cafes, and radiated warmth. 

"You're a godsend, Prompto," Ignis said. A blush darkened Prompto's freckles as he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to join me?"

Prompto's eager smile in response made Ignis feel two inches tall. He knew they barely had time to see one another these days. Prompto said he understood that Ignis had work, but Ignis knew that wasn't all of it, and he worried that one day soon, Prompto would tire of the slow, staggered pace of their companionship and seek another. 

He certainly wouldn't blame him if he did.

Ignis was pushed out of his thoughts by the brush of Prompto's fingers over his. Prompto held his hand over the desktop as he fished out the contents of the bag, explaining his reasoning for that day's pastry acquisition, and Ignis felt a thumb trace over his knuckles.

"I hardly deserve you," he said, impulsively. Prompto raised his eyebrows, lips parted.

"Sure you do," he said, and blushed again. "I mean, you deserve more than just..." He ducked his head, and Ignis gave his fingers a squeeze. "Anyways, I got you something else. Hold on."

"You didn't have to," Ignis protested, as Prompto dug through his messenger bag. Prompto scoffed and pulled out a CD.

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "So I picked this up because the name reminded me of you, but then it turns out he's actually pretty good. Really good. And I don't know what kind of music you like, but..."

"Prompto," Ignis said, before he could talk himself in circles. Prompto shrugged a shoulder and handed the CD over.

Ignis' smile froze.

"So," Prompto said, all innocence and good intent. "Have you ever heard of Iggy Stardust?"

 

\---

 

"You're a legend, man!"

Ignis blinked into the spotlight of the Windmill Bar and smiled, raising a hand to the audience. His band had gone two songs over what they meant to that evening, dawn was rapidly approaching, and Ignis had a meeting with the Accordo ambassador to arrange at seven. Still, all he could think of at present was the stomach-turning thrill of the stage, the ache in his feet, and the slow slide of sweat making his high-collared jacket stick to his skin.

He held the microphone gently, lovingly, his lips ghosting over the rough mesh lining.

"Thank you, darlings," he said, in a low voice made short with a long night of writhing on stage in four inch heels. He bowed, and let the applause rush over him like a wave on the sand.

"The fuck were you doing playing out of rhythm?" Crowe Altius, the drummer and only other person than Ignis who took timing seriously, kicked off her boots the moment they climbed into the van behind the bar. The van belonged to Pelna, their piano player and backup singer, who was taking the moment of relative calm to bum a cigarette off the bouncer at the back door. Nyx, the bass guitarist and subject of Crowe's wrath, shrugged.

"It was twenty seconds, Crowe. No one noticed."

"I noticed, Hero," she said, and pushed a hand in his face. Nyx laughed when her hand came back bright with glittery eyeshadow, and handed a bottle of tea and honey to Ignis.

"Bless," Ignis rasped. He twisted off the cap and drank half the bottle in one go. "We did fine, Crowe. But next time? I'd rather we go with a higher key for the bridge."

"And more days off to practice," said Libertus, who played lead guitar. He propped his feet up on Nyx's legs. 

"No rest in the Kingsglaive," Crowe muttered. "None for you, either, huh, Mr. Secretary?" She grinned at Ignis, who had long since learned to ignore her jibes at his profession.

"That's what Ebony is for," Ignis said. He sighed and leaned back, slipping off his jacket. Pelna returned to the van and started up the engine with a stuttering growl. "My, ah. The man I've been seeing—"

"Your boyfriend," Libertus said. "The one you keep blowing off practice for."

Ignis cracked an eye to give his bandmate a half-hearted glare. "He has our album. The Spiders from Eos one."

"So?" Crowe was wiping at her eyes with makeup remover. 

"So," Ignis said. "He... May not know that it's me. Well, it's hardly a subject one can bring up at the workplace, and as he's friends with Noctis..." 

"Half the Glaive knows about _us,"_ Nyx pointed out. 

"It's become rather awkward by this point," Ignis admitted.

"Because of that song you wrote about him?" Libertus said. "You know, the one about the well-hung guy with freckles like stars and—"

He yelped as Nyx slapped his legs. Ignis groaned.

Of course, he _could_ say that it was just a coincidence. After all, he and Prompto had yet to move past the point of slow, tender kisses in Prompto's apartment before Ignis had to run off to practice, a gig, or hours of poring over declassified reports. But none of that had stopped Ignis from imagining what it might be like, and so "Sunshine Man" had been written, recorded, and subsequently requested at almost every gig they booked since. It was only a matter of time before Prompto made the connection, and Ignis was fairly sure that no one, not even the ever-patient Prompto Argentum, would enjoy being referred to as a "supersonic sex bomb."

He kicked off his heels, listened to the rumble of the van as it navigated the streets of East Insomnia, and wished that he'd never released that damn song in the first place.

 

\---

 

"He's aaaaaaa...."

"Prompto, no."

"Supersonic!"

"Look, man, I'm dying here."

"Sex! Bomb!" 

Prompto slammed his fist down on the partition between his and Noct's shower stalls, making the prince of Lucis jump and squawk. The Crownsguard locker room sent his cry back in a warbling echo, and Noct glowered at Prompto impressively. The glare bounced off him like an errant goose hitting a Niflheim transport carrier. 

"Dude, you gotta come with me to the concert," Prompto said, draping himself over the partition. Noct subtly twisted aside. "He's gonna be singing on the weekend my folks are out of town. At the Frankensteiners."

"Gods, not the bar with the urinals shaped like daemons," Noct said. Prompto slumped down further, widening his eyes for the Charm Offensive. "No. No, Prom, the bidets look like tiny nagas. I can't go through that again."

Prompto whined, honest-to-gods _whined._ "I'd take Ignis," he said, "but when I asked if he was doing anything, he said he'll be busy. Like always. Not that it's a problem!" he said, a little too quickly. 

Noct caught the frantic edge to Prompto's voice and reached for his towel. "You sure about that?" he asked. "I can give Specs a few days off, maybe..."

Prompto flushed pink. "No, no. I mean, we talked about it. This job, it's like his life."

"You should be part of his life, too, you know," Noct said. Prompto shrugged, glancing off to the side. His fingers drummed on the partition, and he dragged at his lower lip with his teeth.

"It probably sounds dumb," he said, "but when I listen to that song, it kind of makes me think of him. They have the same accent, and it's like... I don't know..."

"You want to be his supersonic sex bomb?" Noct asked, grinning. Prompto lunged at him, and Noct scrambled out of the way, cackling. "Okay, I get it. Fine, I'll come with. For you, Sunshine Man."

Prompto smiled wide, pushed himself up off the partition, and tripped on the slick tile floor.

 

\---

 

By the time the weekend rolled around, Prompto was hobbling on a tightly-wrapped twisted ankle, Noct had roped Gladio into coming along ("To protect me from the... everything," he'd said, daemonic urinals flashing through his mind), and Ignis' schedule was still fully booked. Prompto was fine with this, though. He decided he'd catch some videos of Ignis' long-lost rock god namesake, and maybe they'd be enough to convince Ignis to come with him the next time around. 

Prompto wasn't sure what people wore to events like this, so he'd settled on tight jeans and a studded leather vest. Noct was wearing his "incognito" clothes, namely a puffy vest, ripped jeans, a ratty white shirt, and a baseball cap that made his hair puff out around the sides. Gladio hovered behind him, trying not to look like he wasn't secretly interested in the brightly-clad people setting up the stage.

"Do you see him?" Prompto asked. He jumped, and caught what looked like a light brown pompadour, dusted with a tinge of silver hair dye that sparkled in the overhead lights. "Everyone's so _tall_ here."

Gladio frowned, squinting through the smoky haze of the bar dance floor. "Yeah," he said, warily. "But I dunno, he looks kinda..." He rubbed at his jaw absently, and Noct grabbed onto his shoulder to hop up for a look himself.

"Is that a fishnet shirt?" he asked. "Looks like." He hopped again. "Ropes, kind of." Hop. "Silver X painted over his eye." Hop. "Red lipstick."

"Oh my gods," Prompto moaned. He jumped, and saw bright blue and silver high-heeled boots that laced all the way up to the man's thighs. Oh, hell, he had... He had _legs._ Not like that was unusual, Prompto conceded, but his were well-muscled at the thighs, and he had... Were those garters? And... Prompto felt his chest constrict. A blue bodysuit that was slashed at an angle, revealing the hint of toned abs and a pink nipple that brushed against the fishnet shirt as he moved—

"I think this might've been a bad idea," Gladio said. Noct turned to him with a curious look, but the squeal of microphone feedback and a roar from the crowd drowned out whatever he had to say. Prompto bounced on his toes as the sound of the guitarists warming up wove through the chatter, and a low, oddly familiar voice came over the speakers.

"What a pleasure to be back in a bar," Stardust said, "that speaks to us on such a cosmic level. There's beauty to be found in the monstrous, my loves, so let's start with one of our more _far out_ numbers, mm?"

"Yeah, baby," said another man's voice. There was a clacking from the drums, and then the piano blared out the opening chords to "Spiders from Eos." Prompto nearly shrieked. 

Three songs later, Prompto had given up on any semblance of dignity and had made use of Gladio's ridiculous upper body strength in order to climb onto his shoulder. Gladio held him up for the entirety of Iggy's famous "Try and Stop Me, Then," before his arms started to shake.

Prompto watched in awe as the lead singer went from crooning and coy to full-on obscene, lowering himself to the floor to practically crawl across the stage while the lead guitarist tore through the chorus. He ended up on his knees, back arched as he took over for a guitar solo, and the spandex of his bodysuit was so tight that Prompto could see his god-given ass pushing up against his heels. 

He had to get closer. 

"I'm going in!" he shouted to Gladio and Noct. Gladio frowned again, eyeing the stage, but Noct only shrugged and waved him on. Emboldened, Prompto swam through the crowd, making his slow, winding way towards the stage.

To his dismay, the band had reached the end of their first set by the time he was almost there. He could see the bass guitarist trading out his guitar for a new one, the drummer was spitting gum onto the stage floor at her feet, and Iggy Stardust had his back turned while he chugged a bottle of water. Prompto made it to the edge of the stage feeling dizzy and out of breath, boxed in for so long by people taller and louder and much more intoxicated than him. He looked at the line of the lead singer's shoulders, and felt a sense of disquiet settle over him. 

"We'll be taking requests for this next song," the bass player said, as Stardust put the bottle away and fixed his hair. 

"Galean Rhapsody!" someone shouted. This close, Prompto could see the piano player roll his eyes.

"Shifts!" called someone else.

"Sunshine Man!" Prompto cried. Stardust straightened and turned slightly, scanning the crowd. He lifted his hands to the microphone and smiled into it, his mouth a slash of red.

"My personal favorite," he said, still searching the crowd. "You'll forgive my bias, lov—" he stopped as he turned to face Prompto. 

Prompto blinked. Green eyes met violet-blue, and Prompto raised a hand to the back of his neck, digging at the roots as though he could jolt himself awake from the strangest dream he'd fallen in to date. The lead singer was frozen in a half-smile, lips slowly parting in abject shock. 

"Hey, Ignis."

 

 

Ignis looked into the wide, startled eyes of Prompto Argentum, standing at the foot of the stage, and felt a pivotal part of his iron will shake loose. 

This was it, said the small, careful voice of reason that guided him through the chaos of the Citadel. This was the moment when it all broke down. Prompto was there, close enough to touch, and it was a matter of seconds until the sting of betrayal took hold. Then Noct would be the one to comfort him through it, Regis would discover that the future advisor to the chosen king was moonlighting in hot pants and heels, and it would be over. It would be better to just resign himself to it.

Another part of his mind, the one that used words like _cosmic_ unironically and thought the hot pants looked fetching, thank you, noted that the silence was stretching on a bit too long.

The _rest_ of his mind was filled with screaming.

Ignis' hands tightened on the microphone. Well, if this was it, he wasn't going to go out with a whimper. He was too far into the concert to wrench himself out of character, and he'd written the song with Prompto in mind, after all. It was best to simply lay it all out in the open now.

"As you wish, Sunshine," he said. Prompto, who normally blushed on a hair-trigger, went pink to the ears.

Crowe tapped out the beat.

It had to be the most bizarre performance in Ignis' career. He started it off as always, swaying into the microphone, singing low and soft like a heartfelt ballad. Then Pelna and Nyx slipped into the harmonic chorus for a sudden change in pace, Libertus crowded Ignis to shout into the microphone, and Ignis dropped to his knees before Prompto. 

When he unhooked the front of his poorly-buttoned mesh shirt, letting it fall to the sides at his shoulders, Prompto's mouth slipped open.

When he tilted his head back to wail the orgasmic shout of the second verse, Prompto's freckles disappeared under the force of his blush.

When he languidly reached out a hand, Prompto stepped into it, and his fingers hooked under the black leather collar to pull him flush against the stage. Ignis hummed out the last bars of the song to the sound of piano reverberating in the haze of the bar, and Prompto's hands lifted to his hair. They were both breathless, which made little sense, because Prompto had just been standing there while Ignis played the colossal fool—

Prompto's fingers tightened, and Ignis felt the familiar warmth of Prompto's lips on his. The kiss was raw, desperate, and when Ignis pulled himself away, he could see the mark of his lipstick on Prompto's mouth.

"For you," Ignis said, in a voice too like his everyday one for comfort. He turned to the audience, and struggled to remember the next song in the set. 

"Can," Nyx sang, from miles away, "you take me there, oh love?"

Ignis, startled out of a reverie made warm with the promise of his lover's touch, looked into the glare of the spotlight and smiled.

 

\---

 

"Noct!" 

Prompto winced as he tripped over his sore ankle in his haste to get back to Noct and Gladio. Even after nearly an hour, he could still feel Ignis on his lips, his face was red as a homing beacon, and he'd never felt more alive. Gladio, leaning against a bar counter while Noct described the horror that was a behemoth urinal, raised one eyebrow at Prompto.

"I'll take him home," he said, before Prompto could speak. He broke out in a slow, wolf-like grin. "You have fun."

"Yeah," Prompto said, in an undignified squeak. "Right. Yeah."

Prompto burst out of the back door of the bar a few minutes later to find Ignis leaning against the side of a van, speaking softly to one of his bandmates. He looked up at Prompto's arrival, and his hand flew to his glasses, which he must have recovered after the show. It was odd, seeing him dressed like a rock god, covered in glitter and shining with sweat from the stage lights, and wearing the glasses that Prompto saw him in every day at the Citadel. He looked awkward, too, less sure than he'd been on the stage, and he gave Prompto a look that was part apology, part miserable hope. 

"Prompto," he said.

His bandmate smirked. "Sunshine?" Ignis stepped on the man's foot, and Prompto strode forward. He slid his fingers into the netting of Ignis' shirt and pulled him into a kiss, hard and hungry, before releasing him.

"My place," he said, in a rough voice. Ignis nodded, and his bandmate held back a laugh.

For once, Prompto was glad that he hadn't moved out of the house when he graduated. His neighborhood was only a few blocks away from the main stretch of bars and restaurants, a fifteen minute walk at most.

It took forty-five minutes.

"I should've told you," Ignis said, as Prompto pressed him up against the outside wall of a clothing boutique. "I was." He gasped at the drag of Prompto's nails on his back. "Thought it could compromise..."

"Okay, maybe you should," Prompto agreed, licking along the shell of Ignis' ear. "If only because you're so. You look so..." His hands raked down to the edge of the bodysuit, and Ignis shuddered.

They fell into Prompto's house in a tangle of limbs and panting mouths, and the door had barely shut before Ignis' hands were on Prompto's jeans. "Do you want this?" he asked, lips pressed to Prompto's ear.

"Fuck, Iggy. Yes." 

Ignis _moaned,_ and Prompto made a note to drag him home from shows more often. They staggered to his bedroom, shedding boots, vest, spandex and jeans in a glorious trail of debauchery, and by the time they made it to the bed itself, Ignis was down to his stockings and undone fishnet shirt. 

"I'm probably not as, ha," Prompto gasped as Ignis palmed his hard, flushed cock, " _well hung_ as you said in the song, Ignis."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Ignis said, giving Prompto a few short, deft tugs before lying back on the bed. His smile was wicked, makeup smudged with their efforts on the way there, hair falling out of its style to hang over his eyes. Prompto climbed over him, and Ignis' arms pulled him down.

They rocked against each other roughly, sparing no thought for the slow, gentle fits and starts that was their experience to date. Prompto dug his nails into Ignis' ass and thrust his length hard against his lover's, relishing in the broken, wanton cries that Ignis made in response. Ignis ran his nails down Prompto's chest, making crisscrossing marks on his pale skin, and gasped into his mouth. Prompto twisted one of Ignis' nipples and laved his tongue along the other.

"Prompto, I..." Ignis closed his eyes tight and twisted his neck to the side, and Prompto leaned up to kiss the side of his temple. "Gods, Prompto, gods. Fuck." 

He came with a ragged shout, and Prompto sat up to pump him through it, watching as Ignis writhed in the aftermath of release. Ignis let out a low whine when the sensation became too much, and opened eyes blown black with pleasure to beckon Prompto forward.

Prompto finished himself by thrusting into the cleft of Ignis' pecs, staring down at his blissed-out face as ropes of come streaked his neck. When Prompto slid down to lick him clean, Ignis cursed thickly and held his hair in a tight grip.

"You know," Prompto said at last, when they were lying together in a mess of sweat, body glitter, and face paint, "It's true what they say."

"Mm?"

"You're _much_ better live."

Ignis groaned and pushed Prompto's face to his neck, stifling his laughter. "You're terrible," he said. 

"Hey, you love me."

Ignis raised Prompto's left hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles one by one. "Oh, Sunshine," he said, with a lazy smile. "You couldn't be more right."


End file.
